Just Because I’m on a Diet . . .

My name is Delilah, and I am a cuddle-buggy.

Just because I’m on a diet, doesn’t mean I can’t splurge now and then. I am my momma’s baby. She can’t sleep without me. I had 17 teeth pulled a few months ago. I’ve been dieting for three months, and this is my first big splurge. (Except for the one time I cheated, and stole the hamburger my mother dropped while she was cooking.) I have been losing weight slowly and steadily. I got to chew on this bone for quite awhile, but then my mother took it away from me and threw it in the front yard for a hungry coyote that patrols our neighborhood.

PS: Don’t fat-shame me, or my mother will hate you.


Apologize to Winnie!

Apologize to Winnie!

I feel embarrassed to admit that a few days ago my husband, Tippy Gnu, insulted Winnie-the-Pooh, on his blog. He called poor Winnie “sanctimonious,” “priggish,” and said he was shaped like a turd. He even said Winnie should be called, Winnie-the-Shit!

Winnie-the-Pooh, by E.H. Shepard, 1926.

Winnie-the-POOH has been loved by children for as long as I can remember, and I think my husband should apologize. He should apologize to everyone who has ever enjoyed a Winnie-the-Pooh cartoon, and he should apologize to Winnie himself.

He should also apologize to all of the characters in the Winnie-the-Pooh stories that we’ve all loved since we were children, such as Christopher Robin, Piglet, Eeyore, Tigger, Rabbit, Gopher, Kanga, Roo, and Lumpy. Uh, not that I was ever a Pooh fan, myself.

So how about it, Tippy? Let’s hear an apology, or no macaroni and cheese for you tonight. Okay?


Don’t Mistreat Iguanas!

The iguana I saved from a mean drunk.

Never mistreat an iguana. They seem to think it’s okay in the Florida Keys.

We were having a peaceful lunch enjoying this iguana, until some drunk came out and decided to mistreat it. I told my husband I knew he was going to mistreat that iguana, as I watched him from the top story of the restaurant. The drunk went over and picked him up by the tail and started swinging him. I am 5 foot tall and weigh 190, and an old lady, but I stood up and stuck my head out the window and screamed at him: “STOP IT!!!!!”

I was ready to go down and knock the shit out of him.

He looked up and didn’t know what to do, so he put the iguana down. Everyone in the restaurant was looking at me. The server came over and told me that was his friend, and a real nice guy, and that in Florida you’re allowed to kill the iguanas because they have so many of them.

I told him that he is not a nice guy, and you’re not going to change my mind. He is a jerk.

The server told me that he took the iguana from its natural environment, because a dog attacked him, and put him there for the tourists to enjoy. But I think he was better off with the dogs, than with the human beings who mistreated him. I saved a piece of fish for him, but the iguana didn’t want it, and that’s what’s in front of him, in the picture.

The drunk is lucky I didn’t beat him up with my purse. Because I would have if he didn’t get on a boat and float away.

So, don’t mistreat iguanas!


Hi! What The Hell Am I Doing?

Hi, this is my very first goddamned post. FuckShit, this is hard to figure out. Anyway, my name is Kay Yak Gnu. I’m married to Tippy Gnu, who has a blog on WordPress, somewhere the hell around here. I’d provide a link if only my lazy, flea-bitten, two-bit husband would get off his rumpus and help me a little. I’m always chasing after that bastard. And when I catch him, boy does he get it!

Anyway, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. This is my very first post. It could well be my last post. Please bear with me while I try to figure it all out. Thank you.